by James Axler
“But it’ll be quicker than on foot?”
“Assuredly.”
“Get down here, triple fast. The whole place is going up and we don’t want to be here.”
The wait seemed interminable as they watched the parasails descend. Nothing was seemingly happening, the surface as quiet as the grave that below ground was soon to become. The two parasails touched ground, and Corwen organized the group so that their collective weights were split as evenly as possible between the two craft. The process was carried out with a minimum of speech and a maximum of efficiency. As the parasails struggled to gain height, and moved as though the air were the same consistency as the sand beneath, Ryan wondered if they would get clear in time.
“THIS IS WHAT WE’VE BEEN looking for,” Bryanna said to Robear as they reached the armory. She looked at the displays on the monitors. It was something that she could only have dreamed of.
“Controlled detonations in sectors one to five taking place. Computer systems ninety-five percent closed down. Air filter and regeneration systems closing. All doors closed. Power systems close in ten, fifteen to final detonation.”
The monitors flickered and died, followed by the lights.
“We’ve got to go,” Robear whimpered, tugging at Bryanna. “We won’t get out unless—”
“No, not this close,” she whispered as the door behind them closed softly, and finally.
The distant crump of explosions signaled the beginning of the end of Murania.
AS THE PARASAILS GROANED over the area of the old ranch, the ground beneath shimmered and rippled as the blast waves spread. A low rumbling issued from under the ground. The area where the towers still stood acted as a pressure valve, steam and smoke issuing upward in columns that the parasails had to negotiate.
Areas of the ground began to cave in as the hollows beneath were ripped by blasts. As they reached the nuke power sources, more rad-blasted air met the outside world, but not close enough to affect the parasails as they reached the perimeter of the now-defunct defenses.
“Bryanna must’ve wanted that tech so bad. Nothing’s worth that much for chilling,” Rounda said with a softness that none had heard from her before.
“There are some things about the past—most, indeed—that are worth burying. Believe me,” Doc replied.
Krysty would have agreed if she had yet been capable of speech. But all she could think of were two souls who had finally found some rest.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-2214-8
THUNDER ROAD
Copyright © 2008 by Worldwide Library.
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